


So No One Told You Life Was Gonna Be This Way

by AvaRosier



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, game of thrones
Genre: F/M, Modern AU, agameofshipschallenges
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-09-07 14:08:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8803819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvaRosier/pseuds/AvaRosier
Summary: Catelyn has been a widow for some time now, working as an economics professor at Fells Point University in Wintertown. It’s Christmas and fellow professor Arthur Dayne seems very interested.





	

The minute hand on the clock swung from 5:09 to 5:10, signaling the end of class.

“Remember that your mock budget proposals are due in-class next Tuesday. And if you still don’t know how to use Excel by this time in your life, for the love of the gods, please Google it!” Catelyn called out over the rising din of fifty-seven students starting to gather their things. That got her a chuckle from them before they began to file  up the steps out of the auditorium-style lecture hall.

Wintertown had a population of 430,000 and so had a number of universities, two of which were fairly esteemed in Westeros. Catelyn had been teaching economics courses at Fells Point University for the past two years and she loved it. It could be hard work- demanding more hours of her than a 9-to-5 job and sometimes reading her students’ essays made her want to bang her head against a concrete wall, but she felt the career change was worth it.  

She began to gather up her things, removing the flash drive containing her Powerpoint presentations before shutting down the laptop and projector system. Her course on domestic economics sometimes got derided as ‘home ec’, but frankly, Catelyn thought it ought to be required of every student in order to graduate. She taught, among other things, how to budget, what a mortgage was, and the pitfalls of credit card debt. But for some godsforsaken reason the university had placed her two classes for this course here in the Military Sciences building. Given that it was newer, had a better heating system, and top-of-the-line technology, she wasn’t going to complain overmuch about having to make the trek all the way across campus in order to teach.

“I’m impressed.”

Catelyn startled, nearly dropping her book. Pressing a hand against her chest to calm her racing heart, she shot a reproachful look at Professor Arthur Dayne where he stood in the doorway. It was almost criminal, she thought, that the man could make the light-sweater-over-a-buttondown-shirt combo look so sexy. Especially coupled with the military discipline that had his clothing always neat and ironed.

“You’re impressed? At what, dare I ask?” She arched an eyebrow playfully at him. Arthur shrugged with mock casualness, stepping further into the room. He was her age, perhaps a few years older at the most, and still very handsome with his salt-and-pepper hair, strong jawline that had a day or two’s growth on it, and piercing blue eyes.

He jerked his chin in the direction of the clock. “It’s 5:15 on a Friday evening and you’re still here.”

She snorted, waving a hand around at the table full of her things. “As you can see, I don’t have the luxury of fleeing the second class lets out. The only reason it’s this bad is because I didn’t relish the thought of hiking back to my office before driving home.”

“Here, maybe I can make it a little easier.” Arthur moved over to the table next to her and started to help her pile her papers into her cloth bag. This close, Catelyn was intensely aware of the spicy scent of his cologne and how tall and broad he was, still fit from all his years in the army.

They’d met at the beginning of the semester when she’d arrived at the building for the very first time, twenty minutes early so she could attempt to figure out the setup, only to discover that the office had sent her the wrong keys. Arthur had been passing by, glasses still perched on his nose and a cup of coffee in hand, and upon seeing her distress, immediately set about getting the right keys for her.

A casual friendship was born then; first with them exchanging nods and 'hellos’ in the hallway whenever they passed each other, then five minute conversations. Now Arthur seemed to be going out of his way to drop by and chat with her. Catelyn wasn’t obtuse. She may have been out of the dating scene for two decades, but she could tell when a man was interested in her.

“What’s your excuse?” She asked, carefully keeping her attention on checking her purse for things she already knew were there. “I seem to recall you mentioning having a small grace period before the next round of papers to grade.”

He swallowed, the bobble of his Adam’s apple clear above the neckline of his shirt. “Ah, you know how it goes. When you’re not grading papers, you’re doing research for your next academic publication. Gotta give the university its bragging rights.”

“And more funding for your department.” She coyly pointed out. That got her a bark of laughter from Arthur, and the crinkling at the corner of his eyes and wide grin had the effect of making him seem younger, almost boyish. _Down, Catelyn. Down_. She seemed powerless to stop the smile she gave him in return.

“That, too.” He agreed. “Though, it _is_ Friday I could be convinced to take my work home with me if I had a better offer. Dinner, perhaps?”

“Maybe another time- I actually have both Bran and Rickon home tonight for once, so I thought an actual home-cooked meal might be in the cards.”  She felt guilty as she turned him down, thought Arthur didn’t seem to take it personally. He followed her up the stairs and out into the hallway.

“And how are the kids lately?”

“Well, Robb’s gotten a promotion and he may or may not be proposing to his girlfriend soon. I think Sansa’s finally hitting her stride at her new job. Arya is training for the Olympic trials next year…”

“Fencing, right?”

“Yes. Bran just found out he got into Citadel University…” Arthur whistled, and she felt the familiar swell of pride in her chest. “Raventree College, which he’s over the moon about. And I’ve started giving Rickon driving lessons.”

“Yikes?”

“Yikes is exactly the right word. It boggles my mind that he’s closest to Sansa, yet she drives like a granny and he thinks he’s a Formula One racecar driver.” They share a chuckle, pausing in the foyer. “Well, I’ll let you get back to your cash cow and…I guess I’ll see you next Tuesday?”

“Aye, ma'am.” He mock saluted. “Have a good weekend.”

“You too, Arthur.”

She spent the entire walk to her car silently chastising herself. _You are nothing but a coward, Catelyn Tully Stark_. The truth was that both her sons had a more active social life than she did- they’d both already texted her earlier today to inform her of their alternate plans. Bran was having dinner at his boyfriend’s house, Rickon was ’ _COD @ arron’s w/ pizza. C u 10_ ’. He knew just how much Catelyn despised textspeak, that boy.

She could’ve had dinner with Arthur. She _wanted_ to have dinner with Arthur. Maybe that was the problem- she wanted him, to a palpable degree. And that was a terrifying thought. It had been seven years since Ned died and she had chosen to deal with her grief by going to graduate school. This was a different time in her life, especially with three of her kids out of the house and Bran about to graduate next year, so she really ought to be thinking about herself and what she wanted more often. She didn’t intend to be a septa for the rest of her life. But there was still some guilt attached to the prospect of falling in love with a man who was not Ned. He’d want her to be happy. Seven hells, even her children had already reconciled themselves with the idea of their mom dating again.

There had been Doran, a businessman from Sunspear who’d been in town to negotiate a few contracts. He hadn’t been ready to move on after his divorce, and neither had Catelyn been ready for anything serious. But it’d been nice to do up her hair, put on a nice dress and heels, and have dinner. Then there had been Symeon, twelve years younger and in one of her graduate seminars. She’d fucked him, quick and dirty in his messy apartment, and it had been so freeing. She had also spent hours crying in her bed that night. A few other dates here and there, but nothing that qualified as a relationship.

 

* * *

 

Winter had well and truly arrived in the North. Tuesday’s snowfall was still on the ground, albeit shoveled into larger piles to clear roads and sidewalks. All the meteorologists in the city were trotting out the same, tried-and-true soundbites to announce this phenomenon. Catelyn couldn’t even fault them this- they had to capitalize on whatever niche they could, especially when it brought in millions of golden dragons worth of tourism every year. And that money certainly came in handy when it came to kitting the entire city out with lights and seasonal décor. The city center was now home to an annual Christmas market, and she bypassed the crowds as she headed up the hill into one of the pricier shopping districts.

Catelyn parked her car in front of a small grocery store, thinking she might as well spoil herself tonight. That and she liked their selection of wines. At the very least she could get drunk, have full control over the remote (which _never_ happens), and then unearth her vibrator from underneath the bed and use it in concert with a fantasy of Arthur Dayne drilling her into the mattress.

She’s forty-seven, not dead.

Five minutes into her browsing, Catelyn decided to, in Arya’s words, 'woman up’ and call Arthur. Perhaps it wasn’t too early to cash in on that rain check. The line rang three times before she heard the click and Arthur’s familiar rumble. “ _Catelyn. What’s up_?”

“So my children have a more active social life than I do and now I’m standing in front of an array of pretentious-looking pizzas wondering if I could still tempt you away from work.” She was proud of herself for sounding just the right amount of casual yet flirtatious.

“ _Gods yes. I’ve been sitting here for the past half-hour questioning my life choices_.”

“That bad, huh?”

“ _I almost contemplated re-upping to get away from this article- it’s written in the driest language possible, designed to force you to spend twice as much time trying to finish it_.”

Catelyn clucked in sympathy. “You do realize you’re speaking to an economist?”

“ _Ah, yes, I forgot. Nobody suffers like you economists_ ,” he said dryly.

“Watch it or you’ll end up eating the beet and chevre pizza.”

“ _Speaking of dinner, would it be too presumptuous to invite you back to my place to bake that pizza_?”

“Less mess for me to clean up? Works for me.”

Arthur rattled off an address that was twenty minutes away. “So you live up in the hills like a true mountain man?” She teased him. “Do you don red plaid flannel shirts on the weekends and chop firewood?”

A groan could be heard over the line. “ _If I do, that would be a closely guarded secret. A matter of national security_.”

“I’ll do my best to avoid being thrown in prison, then. See you in a half hour?”

“ _I’ll be waiting_.”

 

* * *

 

Her stomach was a mess of nerves as she stepped up to the door of the tasteful red brick cabin and rung the doorbell. She’d touched up her lipstick back in the car and debated yanking her hair out of its partial updo, but then she’d decided that maybe she would leave that to Arthur. The image of him ripping the pins out of her hair and running his hands through the auburn mass had her flushing so pink the coldness outside her car was a blessing. The air out here seemed cleaner, more crisp. In the distance she could make out the city, lit up by millions of twinkling lights. The door opened and there Arthur was, filling the frame with an easy grin.

“You know, I’ve got to say, I’m loving this new pizza delivery service.” If Catelyn’d had any doubt about whether this was going to be just two colleagues having a friendly dinner, they were put to rest when his eyes raked appreciatively over her body. “But why two pizzas?”

“Well, that depends on how adventurous you are.”

 

* * *

 

“Okay, I didn’t think I’d enjoy ham and grape on a pizza but here I am.” Arthur gave the other slice on his plate an assessing look.

“Who says we get more set in our ways as we get older?” Catelyn said, taking another sip of her wine. She’d kicked off her heels halfway through the first glass and more than once, she’d spotted Arthur’s eyes drift down along her legs, encased in sheer hosiery. After her hair, her legs were a source of pride. Both her daughters, one taller than her and one shorter, had inherited this gene from her.

“Variety is the spice of life, and all that.”

Arthur’s home was lovely. Neat, but lovely. But then again, it wasn’t like he had five children in and out of it all the time. The big, grey stone fireplace was the centerpiece and the walls were lined with smooth, varnished wooden beams. His living room furniture was predominately steel blue with neutral tans and whites. What had surprised Catelyn most of all was the fully decorated Christmas tree in the corner, complete with the neatly wrapped presents underneath.

“Will you be flying back south to Starfall for the holidays?” They’d spent the time waiting for the pizza to bake by exchanging stories about their childhoods: his at the seaside in Starfall and hers in the countryside at Riverrun.

“Not this year. For once, my family wanted to experience a 'real Christmas’, complete with evergreen trees and snow. So they’ll be descending on Wintertown en masse.”

“Something exotic, huh?”

Arthur only grinned as he chewed.

Nobody really teaches you how grief works. At first, it’s sharp and all-encompassing because all you can notice is the gaping hole where your partner once was. It’s noticeable every day- when they’re no longer next to you in your bed, when your children have activities to go to and it’s all down to you to get them there. It’s not that you forget as time goes on, it’s just that you get used to a new normal. A new routine. Your children get older and they change, _you_ change.

All this is to say that Catelyn thinks she could allow herself to fall in love again. She can now see how such a thing is possible without feeling as if she were erasing Ned.  Half a lifetime is too long to deprive yourself of love, or human tenderness.

Arthur had uncorked the second bottle and they were just getting started on it, him gesticulating animatedly as he recounted a story from his days in the army, when Catelyn decided to be bold and pluck the glass out of his hand. Placing it further away, she stood up and rounded the corner of the table. The way his eyes followed her sent such a thrill through her. Carefully, she perched herself sideways on his lap and cupped his face in between her hands. The bristles along his jawline nudged into her palms as she pressed her lips to his.

A sweet first kiss, one that lingered as she pulled back a fraction to look him in the eye. Then it was like a dam had burst and Arthur drew her back in for more, their lips clashing as all the pent up sexual tension came flooding out. They may have just finished eating dinner, but Catelyn knew what she was hungry for. Judging by the way Arthur’s hands were running all over her back, her hips and thighs, so was he.

She was scarcely aware of him lifting her into his arms, though the strength of his hold sent a frisson of anticipation coursing through her. He deposited her onto her feet in front of his bed, fingers slowly pulling the zipper at the back of her dress down. She helped him out, sliding down the black material with a little wriggle of her hips. The blue of Arthur’s eyes were now scorching as they took in the lacy black slip. As if in a daze, Cately reached up and pulled the pins out of her hair herself, combing her fingers through the auburn strands.

“Oh, Cate,” Arthur exhaled roughly, hooking a finger around one strap and tugging it down her shoulder. Almost everyone she was familiar with shortened her name to Cat. Hearing 'Cate’ on Arthur’s lips was something novel, something entirely his. And just like that, she was undone.

As passionately as they pressed their lips to each other’s necks, to broad chests or breasts, as confidently as they touched and moved against each other, Arthur wasn’t rushing to get into her. The years had very clearly taught him how to be a skillful lover, which Catelyn appreciated as he peeled her hose off her legs along with her black panties. This was one of her favorite activities and she had been spoiled in her years with Ned, so she was not shy about pushing his head down between her thighs where she wanted it.

Arthur let out a chuckle against her cunt before he drove his tongue in a wide stripe up it. Slowly and surely his mouth worked her into a fever pitch until she was grinding herself into his face. She was unbelievably wet by the time he added two, then three fingers, expertly moving them in concert with his tongue on her clit. Her first peak was like a dozen fireworks going off at once, and her hips thrashed uncontrollably until she had wrung every drop of pleasure from that mouth and those fingers.

There was a very distinct glint of masculine pride in Arthur’s eyes as he moved back over her body and Catelyn couldn’t begrudge him that; instead she started to tug on his belt buckle telling him without words that she wanted him naked.  She couldn’t seem to help pressing her lips against the expanse of his exposed chest and the curly mat of hair there as her fingers nimbly undid the buckle. Arthur unzipped his trousers and shoved them down his hips.

She had her hand wrapped around his cock before he could even kick them off his ankles. He groaned, eyes fluttering shut, and rocked into her grip while his own hands occupied themselves with playing in her hair and thumbing at one of her nipples. Gods, his girth had her cunt clenching in anticipation-it was a good thing he’d already stretched her with his fingers.

“How do you want me?” His voice rumbled next to her ear, making her shiver. “Do you want to ride me? Should I take you from behind? Or shall I put those gorgeous legs of yours over my arms and fuck you into this mattress?” She gasped at the last one and Arthur had his answer.

It hadn’t been until she was in her thirties that Catelyn fully appreciated how deliciously _filthy_ sex could be. Maybe it had something to do with losing her inhibitions and knowing what she liked, what worked.  With her legs slung over Arthur’s corded forearms and her body nearly bent in half, she was so wide open but not the least bit embarrassed to have him see her like this. He certainly seemed to be enjoying the view as Catelyn took his cock, now covered with a condom, in hand and pressed it in between her labia.

He sank into her slowly, using shallow thrusts at first as he stretched her and just the knowledge that soon he would be fucking her had her clenching around him. They worked together, finding just the right angle, just the right rhythm and before long her eyes were drifting shut as the sound of flesh slapping together filled the room along with her gasps and his grunts.

“So good, Cate, you feel so godsdamned good,” he panted above her. She could tell from the shaky tension in his muscles everywhere she touched him that he was just as close as she was. His cock pounded into her deeply and Catelyn squeezed herself tighter and tighter around him, her fingers rubbing furiously at the small bundle of nerves above  where she was splintered open. Unlike her first climax, this one was very singular and focused, starting deep inside her and rushing throughout her body in strong waves, her clit finally rippling beneath her hand.

Keening loudly, Catelyn lost herself to the pleasure, intensely aware of the way Arthur’s hips stuttered against hers before stilling, pressing himself so far inside her she almost regretted that he was wearing a condom. Like she said, sex could be wonderfully messy. He all but collapsed over her, dropping her legs so he could brace his forearms on either side of her head.

She hummed and stroked his slightly damp back, feeling his lungs expand against his ribcage, their breathing similarly harsh. She felt so pleasantly wrung out that though her legs were shaking, she didn’t want to move. Arthur rose up onto his elbows, still softening inside her, and looked at her with this strange, awed sort of smile on his face.

“What?” She asked him.

“Nothing…it’s just that I’ve been thinking about this for some time now and I can’t believe it’s actually happened.” He groaned, dropping his forehead against her shoulder. “ _Father take me_ , I sound like a creepy old man now.”

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, too.” She confessed, patting his head consolingly. “If we hadn’t had dinner tonight, it would’ve just been me, some wine, and a fantasy of you while I used my trusty vibrator.” Arthur’s head whipped up so fast she couldn’t help laughing at him.

They shared a chuckle before he reached down to grip the condom and slip out of her. While Catelyn had no regrets about what they’d just done, she did have a moment of self-doubt when she pondered what to do now. She’d texted Bran and Rickon from outside the grocery store, telling them she was having dinner with a friend. If she stayed, she’d have to text them to not expect her until tomorrow. But did Arthur want her to stay? Should she put her clothes back on and try to fix her makeup (especially the red marks Arthur’s beard had left on her face and neck) before making the drive back home? Most of the wine had worked its way through her system by now.

“I have a lot of clean t-shirts and sweatshirts for you to choose from. Maybe some of my exercise shorts with a drawstring could fit you, too. And I-” Arthur padded back into the bedroom, still buck naked, and must’ve read the expression on her face because he trailed off with a frown. “I’m being presumptuous again, aren’t I?”

“No,” she shook her head. “No you’re not. A shirt sounds lovely and I think I’ll just stick with my underwear. I just hope you don’t have cold feet.”

The frown on his face melted into a grin. “Pet peeve?”

“Grounds for divorce,” she told him primly, trying to seem unselfconscious as she plucked her black panties off the floor. Tugging them back on, she rose onto her tiptoes to give him a slow, drugging kiss. “I’m going to use the bathroom for a minute, but just so you know, I’m not sleepy yet.”

Arthur curled his arms around her, making her shiver as his callused fingers caressed her back. She had to resist the urge to rub her breasts against his chest hair. “Is that your way of telling me to be ready to report for duty?”

“Yep,” she nodded, kissing him again. “Only old people go to bed at 11 p.m. on a Friday night.”

“Aye, aye ma'am.”


End file.
